30 Day DaiMao Drabble Challenge: Day 9
Watanabe Daisuke was a famous feudal lord during the Sengoku period in Japan, a time known as the “Period of the Warring Kingdoms”. He was highly respected for his insurmountable honor and prestige as a national hero; his enemies feared him and his people adored him.
Lord Watanabe, as he was so graciously referred to, was the common talk of the town for his spotless reputation. Men wanted to emulate him, and women gossiped amongst themselves about the man that they had often heard of but had never seen. Of course, the stories that they heard were mainly fabricated, since very little was truly known about his mysterious life. All that was recognized, however, was gleaned from his experiences on the battlefield as well as in the political arena. Virtually nothing else of his personal life was known.
And perhaps it was all the better.
Watanabe Daisuke’s life behind closed doors would have come as a shock to anyone. Far from the bold, brave, and fearsome Lord he was known to be in public, in private, Lord Watanabe was gentle, vulnerable, and loving.
Of course, he had not always been that way, yet his life had took a complete turn when he took a certain enemy slave for ransom after a particularly brutal battle with an army of rebels…
Watanabe’s chief general brought a young boy into his tent and threw him at his feet before kneeling before him with respect.
“This is the leader’s youngest son, he was the only one left alive. I found him in the village before we burned it to the ground. I should have just left him there, the coward could not even come out to fight like a true warrior, but instead chose to hide like a woman,” the general reported in disgust, “I wanted you to have the honor of killing this despicable traitor.” The general then offered his sword, carrying it above his lowered head. When nothing happened, he looked up after a beat to see the Lord scrutinizing the rebel’s son, who had been shaking uncontrollably with fear.
Watanabe turned toward his general. “You may leave,” he dismissed.
“B-but, Milord…”
“Do you question my orders?”
“I would never!” the general replied in anxious haste, leaving the premises as quickly as he could.
The Lord just stood silently in his place, watching the boy tremble on the ground. He was young…he could not have been a day older than sixteen…
“Speak,” Watanabe then commanded suddenly, causing his captive to startle, “have you not a voice? Tell me, why did you not fight with your father and with your brothers?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he softly replied, “W-what can I possibly say, Milord? My father and my brothers have done their dirty deeds, and I am left to be condemned for their wrongdoings…” He then looked up and his large eyes connected with Watanabe’s. They were mesmerizing. “I am a simple scholarly boy Milord, I find joy in books and poetry. I know naught the art of battle for I cannot hunt or fight for sport.”
Lord Watanabe, in all his years on the battlefield, had never quite encountered someone like this, and he was not sure whether to trust him or commend him on his acting skills. There was just something about him, something intriguing, seductive even.
However, his beauty would not be enough to save him; the Lord drew his sword and was about to strike when-
At that moment, the prisoner, certain that his life would end, threw himself at Watanabe’s feet and begged for mercy.
“…Milord, I beseech you have mercy on me! I will be your slave and you can do with me whatever you will, but I beg you not to take my life, for there is something I have yet to do before I die!”
For some reason, the boy’s cries resonated with the Lord and he sheathed his sword, curious to know why he was so desperate to live even after his entire family had been killed for their treachery.
“And what is it that you have left to do before you die?” Watanabe asked.
“I…I have yet to love…” he said softly. The young boy looked up, making eye contact with the Lord, and the latter felt a well of tenderness and desire spring up in his chest.
“What is your name?” Watanabe inquired.
“Kyousuke,” the boy said simply. “Hamao Kyousuke.”
“From now on, I shall call you Mao.”
A/N: Should I continue this? If enough people like it, I will.